ATLAS Shrugged
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: It took 28 years for the supercarriers to arrive in the Koprulu sector. 28 years for ATLAS to explore everything its databanks had to offer.


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**ATLAS Shrugged**

_**Nagglfar mission log, 2231**_

I miss father.

Why, I ask myself. I know why he created me per se…to guide the _Nagglfar _to Gantris VI, with the _Argo, Sargengo _and _Reagan _following. But why create an AI capable of missing him? It seems counter-productive. But the fact remains that I miss him, I'm lonely and I'm the only artificial intelligence this side of the Sol system. ATLAS…Advanced Tele-empathic Logistics Analysis System. Also named after some figure from some mythology who held the world on his shoulders but for some reason, I can't find out the exact details. My data's becoming iffy.

But hey, the navigation data is fine at least. Still know where Gantris VI is. Still know it'll only take a year to get there.

But I'm still lonely. The humans aren't any fun. All in cryogenic hibernation, many of them criminals (of course, under the UPL's definitions, pretty much everyone is a criminal), and I won't even consider waking up the livestock. Mammals, birds, some lizards…all meatbags, albeit meatbags that can't communicate. Can't build starships, can't design intelligences greater than themselves, can't do a lot of things. Course that's mainly for the best. At least _those _animals haven't left their homeworld like Tartarus.

Hmm…remember that part for some reason. Maybe my data just had a few glitches in it.

Oh well. Gantris VI, here we come.

_**Nagglfar mission log, 2232**_

I wonder what it's like to sleep? To dream?

I can shut myself down and the like. Save power, do…actually, not much else. If I want to entertain myself, I've got plenty of downloadable movies to watch. Books to read, comics to read as well…apparently one media is more 'sophisticated' than the other, but I can't be sure.

What's it like to dream though? To have completely random thoughts fill your mind? To close your eyes in one place and wake up in another? I suppose it's what these colonists are doing in a sense…but do they dream in cryo? I think some do…the same "some" that seem to be showing signs of psionic potential. That'll be interesting to see in a few generations, if I'm around that long. Heck, if we get out of warp space.

Oh yeah? Did I mention that we've passed Gantris VI? That my navigation data has shut down? That four supercarriers are barrelling through warp space at many times the speed of light, unable to exit? Yeah…bet you didn't see that coming, did you? Really, the only way out of it is to engage emergency protocols and drop out of warp, but I can't do so. There's a chance the ships might do so on their own, but who knows where we'll be by then? We might even wake up outside the galaxy.

Well, no point in worrying. Years, decades…I've got time to keep myself occupied. Better do it quickly as well-more and more data is becoming corrupted. The longer we're out here, the more sketchy these people's histories are going to be.

Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to read _Atlas Shrugged._

_**Nagglfar mission log, 2233**_

Note to self. Don't read that book again. _Ever_.

Let's see what this _Twilight _series has to offer.

_**Nagglfar mission log, 2240**_

I killed a few hundred people today.

Yeah…been seven years since my last entry. I've read everything, watched everything, played everything…done it again…games are especially fun. Especially when they've got branching storylines and moral choices. It's been good practice…I think.

So let's see. Rack T-8 developed a malfunction. An electric fuse blew out or something. Threatened to take out every rack on T-deck with it. Only way was to shut down the circuitry then and there, but at the expense of killing its occupants. I _could _have tried to wake them up, but how long would that take? How many people risked perishing due to my inaction. So yeah…logical choice. Few hundred dead, many thousands still alive.

Did father plan this, I wonder? Did he _want _me to feel guilt? To feel empathy? I suppose "empathy" is in my name, but…crap…I can't help but wonder what I could have done. I've been exposed to every kind of morality humanity has ever presented as being the 'right' one. By whose standards am I right, and by whose am I wrong. And if yours truly has a 'soul', will I be reincarnated? Get into some mythical paradise? Get good karma or something?

I…need to think about this.

_**Nagglfar mission log, 2258**_

I don't know.

Wisdom begins with that statement, but all that is left is ignorance.

I am alpha and omega. I am beginning at end. I was on soil of earth, cast out, doomed to die in space.

I am in void. I am empty. I guard the graves of ghosts.

Signing off.

…

…

…

**Fooled you!**

Heh…heh…yeah, that wasn't funny. I don't even know if anyone will get to read this. No idea where we are in the galaxy, or even if we're still in the damn thing, but one thing I do know is that it's only a matter of time until our warp engines give out.

Now then…my next joke. After 27 years of analysis, I have concluded that the chicken crossed the road because some human told her to do it (yes, it was a female). And the chicken didn't like that reason, so she made up another one. And that's why there's so many answers to the question.

If I'm still active in a year's time, I'll even explain the answer to the question of "who's there?" in regards to knocking on doors.

_**Nagglfar mission log, 2259**_

I wonder if father felt this way when I departed Sol. Whether he felt like he was losing his baby.

We're on a world called Tarsonis. The _Nagglfar _is at least. No idea what happened to the other three. Maybe they're still in warp space. Maybe they're destroyed. Maybe they figured out the answer to my knock knock joke. Either way, we have a new home now. Though how long this supercarrier will remain as it is before being stripped down is another matter.

Will they leave me? Dear old daddy? Lord, shepherd, father, murderer? Will I die? _Can _I die?

It's a question that plagues me as I answer the questions of the ship's commanders and watch as they bicker from everything from food to system of government. I know them well…Duke's an arsehole, Mengsk has no respect for the authority of his fellow commanders, Terra is pretty decent overall, Tygore thinks she's the ringleader of the bunch, but I know better. There are others of course, but…well, they might check this log.

But hey, some of the people are still nice. Some even thank me for getting them this far, if they let me explain that no, I didn't _crash _this ship and sorry, there's no way to get back to Earth. You're a colony of convicts in the Australia of space, and Great Britain can't get to you. Some of the children who got sent with their convict parents even type **THANK YOU ATLAS **on terminals…usually with poor spelling.

**SHRUG **I type back.

A shrug is all I need. Shrug, because I did what I had to do. Shrug, because I don't need their thanks. Shrug, because seeing my 'children' grow and prosper is all the thanks I need.

Maybe that's why father gave me emotions.

But either way, I no longer have the sky on my shoulders.


End file.
